


Forever to Touch You

by Foxen, novaed (orphan_account)



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: 75 word hc to THIS, Baby yodlet interruptus, Corin panics, Dyn use YOUR WORDS, Dyn's choice, Hands, Keldabe, M/M, Oblivious Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Indulgent, and semi-colons, angst not intended, gratuitous use of the senses, he's such a good bean, how did we get here, mandalorian forehead kisses, ok not those words those words cause panic, people need to NOT TOUCH THE DAMN HELMET, thank you LadyIrina for letting us play with Corin, that damn helmet, touch starved, yes we're still going off about that hint of SKIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxen/pseuds/Foxen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/novaed
Summary: The Mandalorian is stubborn; he knows that well — he had lived alongside him long enough now to pick up on how he expressed his emotions. From his rod straight spine, to his clenched fists and tense shoulders, he positively radiates fury and frustration.All the same, there was no way Corin could have let the ambushers take the helmet off.EDIT 12/29/19: originally part one of the series titledCheirophilia. Can now be considered a standalone. Please see the series for the rewritten version.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Corin (LadyIrina), The Mandalorian/Corin (LadyIrina)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 617





	Forever to Touch You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rescue and Regret](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648874) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



> Hi! So. It's been a while...school ate my soul, then I started watching The Mandalorian and fell unexpectedly head over heels. Then while reading fic I found LadyIrina's series and now I'm utterly doomed. Which is fine. Though unexpected. I never read canon character/oc so. Yeah. Definitely never expected to be writing for another author's oc but here I am!! Managed to drag my friend into it with me, thankfully!
> 
> This started as a brief headcanon during a conversation about how, and if, the Mandalorian's helmet should be removed. We had just watched episode 7 and were desperately trying not think about what an emotional roller-coaster it was. Nova and I ultimately decided the removal of the helmet had to be on Din's terms or not at all. I ran with the headcanon, wrote til 4:30am last night and tonight, and now here we are with this monster.
> 
> Much thanks to Nova for being my partner in crime on this one. It was a blast to write and I'm so excited for the future pieces we have planned.
> 
> HUGE thank you to LadyIrina for her wonderful OC Corin. If you haven't read her series yet, do so before you read this! 
> 
> This is my first Mandalorian fic, and my first Star Wars fic, AND my first fic writing another author's OC. So. a lot of firsts. Hopefully we did everything justice lol,
> 
> Anyway, we hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as we did writing it!
> 
> EDIT 12/29/10: while working on later parts in the series, Nova and I realized that this fic would not work with that we had planned. It has now been removed from the series and can be read as a stand alone fic. Please read the fic _Breathe in Together_ for the much longer, more intense rewritten version of this fic.

Getting back to the ship after the ambush is no easy feat. It leaves him sore, tore-up, and the gut wound that had been so close to being completely healed is now reaggravated and painful. Corin knows the pull would always remain, reminding him of how he came to be _here_ , though he's still not entirely sure where here _is_ , exactly, this place with the Mandalorian and the child he keeps under his watchful eye. 

What's making the trip back more stressful, however, is the unrelenting glare hidden beneath the Mandalorian's helmet. 

Corin's hands shook from more than adrenaline. He had been so relieved to see his companion relatively unharmed as he helped free him from the tightly wound rope at his wrists. Subsequently, he got serious whiplash from the way the Mandalorian had yelled at him after getting him back up on his feet.

"What the hell were you _thinking_?" the Mandalorian had said. He hadn't even yelled, really, but the anger in his modulated voice had been worse than any yelling could ever be. "I had it under control!"

Corin could have sworn he could feel the intensity of the glare the Mandalorian had shot his way, helmet or no.

 _He had it_ , Corin repeats to himself. Had he made a fool of himself by going out to look for the Mandalorian and aiding when he had seen one of the attackers reach for his Beskar helmet? 

He had curled into himself after the Mandalorian had reprimanded him, defaulting to old habits. Keep your head down, keep your mouth shut, and do as your told. He couldn't help it. It was an old self preservation technique. Unfortunately, it only seemed to irritate the Mandalorian more.

The Mandalorian is stubborn; he knows that well — he had lived alongside him long enough now to pick up on how he expressed his emotions. From his rod straight spine, to his clenched fists and tense shoulders, he positively radiates fury and frustration.

All the same, there was no way Corin could have let the ambushers take the helmet off. _Of course_ he jumped into the fray. It wasn’t just some…party trick, no. The helmet is part of who the Mandalorian is and it's important to him; because of this, it's important to Corin, too. To see someone — especially a stranger up to no good — even _joke_ about such a thing as removing it made his tender stomach curl into knots. 

He's finding it difficult to school his emotions on the trek back and he's growing more unsure and unsettled as time goes on. But, finally, they reach the Razor Crest. His wounds — minimal for how short the scramble had been — have begun to scab over as he shuffles on board the ship. 

The kid chirps when they make it onboard and Corin smiles at him, ruffling the light smattering of fuzz atop his head before moving to one of the storage cabinets to find the first aid kit. The kid had stayed put for once -- after he had pleaded for him to stay put so he could find his dad -- something Corin is incredibly grateful for. The last thing he needs is a lost or wounded child to trigger the Mandalorian's protective instincts, otherwise Corin would be a dead man.

The ground rumbles as the ship began to lift, and he's lost to his own doubts as he tends to what wounds he can reach. 

\----

Some time later -- he has no clue how much -- Corin has cleaned and bandaged what he could and now sits staring at one of the armory doors.

He blinks before pressing clean hands against his face, pushing them through his hair as he struggles to maintain a calm expression. His old training wouldn’t dare let him walk out in such a vulnerable state, but a small voice in the back of his head tells him he just doesn’t want to upset the kid. 

Exhaling all the pent up tension he has been holding in since the end of the fight, Corin nods at his reflection in a mirror before walking to the ladder and up into the cockpit. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to find -- the child maybe, or the back of the Mandalorian's helmet as he studiously chooses to ignore Corin while plotting their next course -- but it certainly isn't the other man standing in the small space, arms crossed in a rare indication of vulnerability.

They stare at each other for a moment. Corin is relieved to see that much of the earlier anger is gone from his stance, though there is still a strange level of tension running through him. 

The Mandalorian shifts slightly, taking a step toward Corin, whose response is automatic. He steps back, turning his body so one shoulder is angled towards the bounty hunter, minimising the amount his body is exposed, and raises his hands in a defensive posture. The Mandalorian immediately freezes, as does Corin. 

_Shit._

Slowly, the Mandalorian uncrosses his arms and lowers his hands to his sides, palms down in a placating gesture. 

"Corin, look." He pauses, head tilted down like he's looking for the right words. He looks back up in Corin's direction, his hands dropping completely as he sighs.

Corin is still tense, but now he's a little curious. Sure, the Mandalorian isn't a master of words or anything, but it's not often that he has seen him at an apparent loss for them.

He thinks he hears the other man mutter something under his breath before saying clearly, softly, "I'm sorry."

Corin stills, blinking. 

Before he can make sense of _that_ statement, the Mandalorian continues. "I shouldn't have," his hand makes a vague gesture that Corin takes to indicate their recent conversation, "but you have _got_ to stop putting yourself in danger. _Please._ How many times do I have to say it?"

Indignant spluttering falls from his lips, “I barely got injured! It was...it -- a scuffle! I do have training, Mando, I couldn’t just _wait_!”

“Yes, you can. And you will. This can’t happen again, _please_.”

Corin pinches the bridge of his nose, a sharp noise leaving him. “I...I can’t _promise_ that. I can’t. I can’t...let you do this alone and _worry_ about whether or not you’re coming back,” 

The other’s posture stiffens as if he is going to cut in. Corin rushes on, “Don’t, please. Watching the kid, I can do that. But we don’t ever know when you’re getting back. I had to _trace_ everywhere to find where you were this time because you don’t ever think to mention it before leaving!”

He holds onto one wrist, his fingers encircling it snuggly, friction pulling at his skin. Voice more controlled, he continues. “I can wait. _Only_ if you stop…,” _How could I put it?_ “If you stop running off to do jobs without _telling_ me. Yeah, you’re the _Mandalorian_ , but it doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you not coming back to us!" Catching his own words, Corin backpedals quickly. "I mean, to the kid. The kid.”

The Mandalorian stands still and Corin is _sure_ he's crossed the line this time. He should have kept better control of his tone and volume. What was he thinking, raising his voice like that?

The pause reaches a standstill, but the Mandalorian recovers, "I come back every time. When have I not come back to the ship? It is the way, Corin. What part of this is confusing to you? You’ve _got_ to trust that I will come back."

Corin's self preservation instincts must have left him on the last planet they were on because his frustration finally gets the better of him. 

"Trust? You're talking to me about _trust?!"_ His voice cracks on the last word. He'd probably be embarrassed if his heart wasn't hammering in his chest. As it is, he feels a pressure build up behind his eyes and prays he doesn't start crying. "I do trust you, Mando. I do. But do you even trust me? At all? I don't even know your _name_ for kriff's sake, let alone seen your _face_!"

He's breathing heavy and he suddenly feels sick. He just-- he said-- he closes his eyes, fists clenched tight.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I…" he trails off, unsure. If he hadn't crossed the line earlier, he had _certainly_ done so now. He feels his body shake.

"Corin."

There's something about the tone of the other man's voice that catches him off guard. Corin reluctantly opens his eyes.

The Mandalorian reaches up to the sides of his helmet. Corin panics. 

"What the hell are you doing? No -- why- stop."

The other man pauses for a second, still holding onto the helmet. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asks, and Corin can _hear_ the eye roll in his voice -- how does he _do_ that? -- but he also thinks he heard a slight tremble under the bravado. "You're right. Trust should go both ways."

Corin chokes on his next breath. _This can't be happening!_ he thinks. _I'm dreaming, right? Again? Maybe I hit my head in the scuffle and--_

Out loud he says, "Uhhh," before he covers his face with his hands. 

Kriffin’ eloquent _,_ Corin, you _dumbass..._

“If you wanted the room for yourself you could’ve just said so, here, I’ll jus-,” the words spew out before he can control himself, his knees weak as he manages a step back in the direction of the ladder. He doesn't even know what he's saying at this point.

The Mandalorian's sharp voice cuts through his panic, his gloved hands making a soothing gesture, "Stay, please.”

Through his fingers, Corin says, "You _can't_ take it off. I'm not." He pauses and swallows. More quietly, hands quivering, he continues, "I'm not worth it. Worth your code or religion or people. Your armor. None of it. I--" 

He flinches at the sound of the helmet being set down somewhere. _Oh_ stars _, he's actually taken it off._ He screws his eyes shut even tighter behind his hands.

The Mandalorian quietly steps in front of Corin, the rustling of his clothing the only indication that he moved closer. 

"Corin," he says again, quietly. And Corin feels like his knees might actually buckle because his voice is so _soft_.

"Corin," he repeats. And, even quieter still, "Look at me. I _do_ trust you." There's a pleading note in his voice that Corin doesn't have time to think about because then the Mandalorian is gently taking his hands by the wrists and pulling them away from his face. His hands are warmer, _softer,_ than he expected and Corin _trembles_. 

He lets out a shuddering breath. 

_Oh,_ stars, _the Mandalorian's hands are ungloved and touching mine and his unmodulated voice is--_

The Mandalorian places Corin's hands against his own face and holds them there. He's trying valiantly to _not_ move his fingers against the skin he's so desperately wanted to see for months now. He fails _-of course he does-_ and moves his fingers ever so slightly, taking in the feel of the Mandalorian's bare face. The rough stubble under his fingers. The sharp jaw under his thumbs. He can feel the ends of the bounty hunter's hair tickle the backs of his knuckles. He's distantly surprised at the apparent length of his hair -- how it curls against his neck -- he had expected it to be much shorter. Cropped. He itches with the need to drag his hands through the strands to see just how long his hair actually is. It's a conscious effort to keep them right where they are.

Eyes still closed, he swallows thickly. He's suddenly overwhelmed. Warm hands, face all soft planes and hard edges and rough stubble, the smell of the earth clinging to the clothes beneath the Beskar armor. The amount of trust the Mandalorian has chosen to place in him… it's too much. His mouth parts with the intention of saying just that.

Before he can say anything, however, the Mandalorian brings his own head forward, his hands still holding Corin's to his face. Their foreheads bump together gently and now there are a dozen new sensations battling for Corin's attention. The pressure of their foreheads pressed together; the Mandalorian's warm breaths against his own face, almost unbearably intimate; the rapid beat of the pulse under his fingers; the brushing of the tips of their noses as Corin tilts his head just a little, lips parted; the sound of the Mandalorian's breath hitching slightly, his grip on Corin's hands tightening.

Corin wants to kiss him.

The desire hits him unexpectedly and he curls his fingers against the Mandalorian's face, their fingers interlocking. 

He wants to open his eyes, to make proper eye contact. He knows that no matter what the Mandalorian looks like, he'll still find his features to be perfect and beloved. How could they be anything but?

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and slowly opens his eyes.

* * *

Dyn keeps his own eyes closed, too. There's a complicated knot of sensations in his chest. Apprehension. Adrenaline. _Fear_. He isn't sure he wants to see Corin's immediate reaction when he sees his face for the first time. But he also feels hope and a lightness to his soul that he's not sure he ever remembers feeling before. Warmth spreads from the knot, loosening it up, pushing back the negative feelings. 

This feels _right._

He hears Corin take a deep breath and his catches in response. He's probably opening his eyes now. Biting lightly at the inside of his cheek, Dyn slowly opens his own.

Their eyes meet. Dark brown staring into amber. The sensation of being _seen_ \- truly seen- is overwhelming and Dyn forces himself to not break eye contact.

He can't remember the last time he made eye contact with someone who was able to see him in return. It's uncomfortable, jarring, and thrilling all at once.

He's gearing up to pull his forehead away from Corin's when he hears a soft coo from the direction of the cargo bay. It's followed by a squeak, a clattering of _something_ as it's tipped out of whatever box it was held in, and a small yelp.

Corin's eyes go wide -- for a brief second, Dyn marvels at the hints of yellow-gold flecked amongst the amber -- before Corin lets out a strangled sound.

" _The kid,"_ he says, pulling out of Dyn's grasp and darting away to get to the ladder. 

Dyn stares after him as Corin makes his way down to whatever mess the kid just made. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighs.

Then he lets out a chuckle, because of course Corin would drop everything for the sake of the kid, even a moment like the one they just had. 

He couldn't be upset with the former 'trooper, though, could he? 

Afterall, Corin's devotion to the child is part of what he loves most about him.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are a yodlet's favorite snack! ❤️

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [This is the way...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039405) by [Aeriels_Stories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeriels_Stories/pseuds/Aeriels_Stories)




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